


A Woman Grown

by ASwornStark



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face-Sitting, Hand Jobs, Menstruation, No they won't fuck while she's bleeding okay, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 09:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8573215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASwornStark/pseuds/ASwornStark
Summary: Neither of them talked about it. Neither of them would even know what to say.





	1. The Second Room

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Izzy here. My roommate has been talking about Gendry/Arya for a long time and it made me want to write something for them. This chapter is basically just an intro to what's going on with them but the next chapter will get a bit heated. Heed the tags!

Neither of them talked about it. Neither of them would even know what to say.

They'd been travelling with the Brotherhood for a long time. Long enough that Arya had sprouted up to just below Gendry’s chin. Her seven and tenth nameday had come and passed only a few days ago and Lem had handed her a good and full pitcher of ale for the occasion. The sun was at its peak when they left the tavern that Anguy had insisted they spend a few hours in per Arya’s celebration.

The ambush was quick.

They all knew it was possible to get caught anytime but they'd gotten lazy and foolish. They were too used to preparing for night raids.

Lem’d gotten a fine gash along his cheek and Gendry was sporting purpleish bruises where he'd almost had the life choked out of him by a mossy toothed thief. Despite the suggestion to turn back, Lem insisted they move on. “If I’ve gotten this ugly cut for nothing I'll slit my throat to match,” he'd said in a huff.

They kept moving until they came upon another inn. It’d been hours and though Gendry warned that they ought not waste the little coin they had, Arya forced them all inside to tend to Lem’s cut. She knew it was unwise to let a wound fester too long and she hated to think that Lem’s wound might become infected.

The woman there offered them two rooms for the coin of one, glancing at Anguy favourably as she led them to the table for supper. Arya wasn't much of a maester herself, but she was used to cleaning cuts and she did so for Lem as the others began eating. Gendry commented about how filthy it was that Arya was cleaning up at the table but she glared at him and he went back to talking to Anguy about the rooms. As they’d never had more than one room before, Arya wasn't quite sure how they would split the group up. She looked to Gendry and Anguy who conversed quietly while they ate and came to a decision.

“Arya and Gendry will take a room,” Anguy said, looking somewhat grouchy but mostly resigned, “the rest of us will take the other. I may be able to…erm…get that second room with two beds. If we’re lucky.”

Gendry smirked and clapped Anguy on the shoulder, “I doubt she’ll refuse you after you—”

Anguy elbowed him hard in the ribs while they all laughed. He finished his broth before going in search of the innkeeper’s wife. All of the men were pounding their fists and wishing him luck.

When they all went to bed, Arya followed Gendry into a cramped but clean room. The fire was being tended to by a young boy and Gendry let him out with a murmur of thanks. After the long day they'd had, Arya wanted to fall into bed immediately; clothes, shoes, and all. Instead, she unlaced her shoes and left them at the foot of the bed. The freedom she felt after that was somewhat intoxicating. She was used to being fully clothed and asleep among all of the men in their party. With just Gendry in the room with her, she began to unlace her britches. She was much more comfortable without the extra layer of stiff fabric. The fire was warm and the quilt on the bed looked inviting enough so she knew she hardly needed it.

Gendry crossed his arms over his chest while she stripped out of a good half of her clothing. She kept on her threadbare undershirt and the tight, long underpants that she’d been in for months since she stole them from a woman miles away. His eyebrows rose as he caught sight of the shape of her breasts, unbound for the first time in a long time. When they'd first met, her breasts had been flatter than his own and now they were perky and soft looking, making him feel warmth in the pit of his stomach. The fire crackled behind her and he could see the shape of her legs murkily. He suddenly didn't know if he'd make it through the night.

She didn't notice the process going on inside his head. They slipped beneath the quilt together and she settled into his side like always. They were used to sleeping this way for warmth and Gendry often welcomed it. Now though…now he could feel her breasts against him, nipples hard beneath the thin fabric of her undershirt. He couldn't stop thinking about her breasts. He shuffled about in bed, trying to get comfortable with her beside him now that she was uncovered.

“Seven hells, stop moving about!” Arya snapped, “Just go to sleep Gendry.”

“I'm trying,” Gendry fought back. He drifted to sleep a few minutes after Arya’s soft breaths had slowed against his neck. From all of his bucking she’d moved away from him slightly, pulling the quilt with her but Gendry didn't mind. He'd rather be cold for the night then let Arya Stark in on the fact that his cock liked the idea of her breasts against him. He'd never hear the end of that one.

When he woke, it was still dark out and he realized he'd not been asleep for very long at all. He was stiff with cold and contemplated turning Arya onto her side and pressing against her for warmth. He decided against it, not wanting to awaken her by accident and feel her wrath. He slipped out of bed quietly and went to the fire for a few minutes before returning to their bed. As he lifted the sheets, a flash of red caught his attention. His eyes widened at the blood seeping into their sheets.

“Arya!” Gendry hissed. He moved quickly, touching her arm and watching her eyes flutter open in annoyance. “Why didn't you tell me you were hurt? Come here.”

She looked confused as he pulled her from the bed and then her eyes widened at the bloody sheets where she’d been lying. “I wasn't. I…I don’t remember. When we got attacked I know I got hit a few times but the man had no knife.”

Gendry grunted as he unlaced her undergarments and slid her pants down her legs as she stood by the fire and clutched the stone ledge. He looked for a mark, a gash on her skin. The blood was already browning and yet there was no cut where there ought to be.

His face coloured suddenly. “Oh seven hells!”

“What?” Arya asked, terrified, “What's happened I don't feel any pain, what is it?”

“You've got no injuries, Arya, you're fine.” Gendry stood up quickly, drawing his eyes away from her legs and going to get a washcloth in the bucket of water kept warm over the hearth.

“If I was fine then why am I bleeding?”

Gendry rolled his eyes, “You know.”

But when he turned and met her eyes he knew that she didn't. Gods, she looked terrified. Her bottom lip was sucked into her mouth and she seemed on the verge of tears.

“Oh, Arya…” Gendry walked towards her and handed her the washcloth. He clutched the back of her neck and stroked her hair back gently. “It's only your moonblood.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Gendry felt his cheeks turn red. “You've flowered, Arya. You're a woman.”

Arya looked pale. Her form was frozen in place and Gendry tried to stroke her hair to calm her. She wasn't looking at him anymore. Her eyes were on the fire crackling in the hearth and she seemed ready to throw herself into it. Gendry went to the bag that held some of their essentials. His fingers touched the rough fabric he used whenever they needed patching up. He handed it to her quickly and told her what to do with it upon her look of confusion.

He moved back to the bed to look at the state of the sheets, which on the whole weren't as bad as he'd first thought. He took the washcloth that Arya had finished with and rinsed the blood from it before taking it to the sheets and cleaning them as best he could. He hoped that there would be no notice of the faint stains until their party was long gone. Arya laced herself up again, fully clothed out of embarrassment, and stood by the fire.

“We’ve still got time before we leave, we can sleep by the fire for a bit longer.” Gendry took the unsoiled quilt and they made a bed on the ratty, woven rug on the floor. They huddled together with Gendry’s hand rubbing circles against Arya’s stomach to soothe the cramping that he knew would come soon.

“Thank you,” Arya murmured.

Gendry smiled groggily. “Of course, milady.”

“Shut the fuck up you shrivelled worm.”

 

 


	2. The Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Izzy here! I feel as if this is suuuuper long and I hope it's all good. I don't have a beta so just bear with me

It'd been over a week since the incident and Arya’s blood had passed excruciatingly. She hid it well from the others in the party but Gendry held her every night. He had to place a warm hand on her belly to soothe her aching cramps. Gendry caught Anguy’s eyes on them one morning and knew what they were all thinking.

Gendry hated to admit it, but he was thinking along the same lines. Of course, he didn't want her in this state—not when she was aching and cold and vulnerable—but when she was in better shape…

He couldn't stop thinking about it. He'd thought she was sprouting up and knew she'd gotten pretty, but he'd never wanted her like this. That night, with her breasts firm and warm against him, could give him release for a long time. It was strange to think of her that way after knowing her when she was a slight little girl. But no matter how strange it was to think that way, he was still doing it. Each night, even knowing she was bleeding, he could feel the heat of her against his chest and groin. They were always moulded together tightly to share their heat as much as possible.

It was his own idea to sleep in the inn they came across next. They were all a bit crabby from the ever growing cold when they came upon it. Arya hadn't gotten to clean herself properly in days. All she'd been afforded was a short swim in a freezing river after the men had washed some of the grime away.

“Do you think we can get two rooms again, Anguy,” Lem called out, smirking at Arya who rolled her eyes.

“Well we might as well try,” Anguy replied. Gendry had never been so red in his life.

“Why not just split us up fairly,” Arya sighed as the other men traded smug looks. “Aren't you all tired of sleeping on top of each other?”

They paid her no mind as Anguy went to meet the maiden eyeing them. She smiled coquettishly and nodded along as he explained what they needed and the coin he had. Arya rolled her eyes as the girl made a jest about his hands being payment enough.

They’d just gotten into their room alone and Gendry was dropping his belongings on the reading chair by the fire. Arya mumbled something about sleeping on the floor. “It'll shut them up,” she insisted.

“You know it won't,” Gendry said, face red and turned away from her, “Who cares? You and I know nothing is happening.” _Though I can't stop wishing it was._

“I suppose,” she conceded. They were silent for a bit as Arya cleaned herself by the bucket and Gendry turned away from her. The sounds of water splashing filled his ears while he removed his boots. When he turned back, Arya was pulling her clothes off again. With her blood over, the woman was much less self-conscious. Gendry thought to mention that taking off all her clothes when they went to bed would only encourage the laughter from the others but he knew she was far too impetuous and he didn't want her to sleep on the floor at his words.

“Come on then. You barely slept last night, you could use a good rest.” Gendry pulled the covers down and beckoned towards it as he pulled his dark vest from his shoulders and settled in beside her. They nestled in together, her back against his chest. They were warm enough without the closeness but he didn't object to her backing into him.

“Goodnight, Gendry.” Arya yawned.

“Night, Milady.”

“I'll stab you in the eye you bastard.”

~~~  
He never had dreams this good.

_Arya was still pressed against his chest but this time she was naked and so was he. She was pretty and tanned all over and the curls of dark hair around her cunt already looked wet as he looked over her shoulder at it. His hand trailed down from their innocent position on her waist to cup her as her breath caught. His cock rested against her ass. Arya said nothing. He only knew she liked it from her breathing._

_His mouth was on her neck and pecking along her shoulder as he toyed with her, rutting against her back fervently. He split her on two rough fingers, humming an apology when she cried out and clutched his wrist. She turned her head and grabbed his face for a hard kiss. His moan at her approval was drowned by her sweet lips._

_He wanted to fill her. Gods, he wanted a lot of things and she was so willing. Her body was so hot against his and her noises were getting louder. She would feel good around his cock. So tight he wondered if he’d survive her—_

“Gendry?”

He was startled at the hand on his thigh and he flew upwards in bed, almost knocking his head on the slanting rooftop of the inn.

“Seven hells! What is it?” He said, panting for breath. He looked down at her, eyes wild. They were pressed together for warmth now, rather than comfort, as the fire had begun to die in the hearth.

“Don't you yell at me!” Arya hissed, “You're the one moaning like an idiot and fucking me in your sleep!”

Gendry’s mouth dropped open. “What?!”

“I can't sleep if you're going to have dreams like that.” She sniffed and sat up to glare back at him.

He groaned. He’d never been known to move in his sleep—in fact, Arya had checked his heart sometimes to make sure he hadn't died next to her. “I wasn't—look, I didn't mean to, alright?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I don't care. I truly don't, Gendry,” she insisted, “but whoever you're dreaming about better stay out of your big fat head when you sleep with me.” She got out of bed to tend to the fire and get it going again. Gendry knew she was giving him the option of rolling over and going to sleep without a fight.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “She should stay out of my head?”

“Yes,” Arya answered curtly, “she _should_.”

He knew it was a low blow. He should just leave it alone. But she was so oblivious and he was so exhausted. “It's hard to keep her out of my head when she's got her arse or her tits pressed against me every damn night.”

She turned to him slowly, eyes slitted and furious. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me say it, don't act like you didn't.” He was staring her dead in the eyes, licking his lips for moisture as he felt his mouth go dry.

“You already said it once. It's out. I want to hear it again Gendry.”

He turned away for a second. _Damn_ _her_. _Gods fucking damn her_. “I dreamt of you.”

“Why?” Her grey eyes were confused.

“I don't know,” he admitted, “ever since that night…”

“The night I first bled?”

He scoffed at her. “The night you took off all your damn clothes in front of me and I realized you'd grown a pair of tits,” Gendry shot back.

She finished rummaging around by the fire and stalked back towards their bed. “So it's my fault? It's my fault you can't control yourself?”

“Of course it's not,” he growled, running his hands through his hair and looking down at his lap, “none of it is your fault. I shouldn't have told you this at all.”

“No,” Arya said. She looked at his tented britches and back up to his face, eyes like stone. “No. You told me for a reason. You told me thinking I'd beg you for it, didn't you?”

Gendry flinched as his pants strained. “O’course not. Fucking hell, Arya.”

“You want my permission?” she asked, ignoring him, “Fine. You've got it.”

He almost fell off the bed. Spluttering, he looked at Arya as if she was half mad. She was standing there on the side of the bed with her arms crossed.

“Arya, get into this bed and go to sleep.”

“No. I'm not going to sleep until you do whatever it is you think about when my…arse or tits…are all pressed up against you in bed.” She raised an eyebrow in challenge.

Gendry felt dangerously hot. There was no way he was giving into this. She was being stupid and childish. He felt his cock twitch as he noticed again how the fire behind her made her threadbare clothes translucent. Her legs looked lean and strong and he wanted to feel them wrapped around his waist. He wanted to hold her wide hips in his hands. He wanted her slender arms wrapped around his neck while she dug her fingernails into his scalp…

She gasped when he grabbed her by one arm and threw her across the foot of the bed, emerging from the covers to pin her down. He slammed his mouth down onto hers forcefully as he clutched her breasts beneath her shirt. They felt soft and heavy in his palms and he groaned into her, thinking about all of the nights he'd warmed her stomach to take away her pain. Her breasts had only been a few inches above his fingers. He felt her nipples go hard quickly, whether from arousal or the shock of his cold hands, Gendry didn't know.

He left kisses along her soft jaw and neck. With her mouth free, Gendry could hear Arya’s laboured breaths. Her skin grew red with each pass of his scruff, making him smile as he took note of it while pulling her upper body off the bed to throw her shirt away. He gave one nipple a lick with the flat of his tongue and closed his mouth around it to suck heartily. Arya had yet to touch him but at this, her hands fisted in the sheets.

“Gendry—” she cried out.

“Don’t you get bossy on me,” He snapped, as he began to unlace her britches. “Ya said you wanted to see what I'd dreamt of.”

He'd had his legs on either side of her hips but upon his descent, he parted her thighs and crawled between them. Her knees were bent so the soles of her feet were flat on the rough quilt, opening her up to him. His fingers traced her thighs gently, mouth just above the place she seemed to ache. When Arya's fingers laced in his hair he hummed in approval. She gave him a hard shove that made him want to laugh as his lips brushed against her cunt. He felt her wetness on his chin as he sucked her clit between his lips.

Her taste had a hint of salt that made his hips stutter. In his dreams she'd tasted sweet—this was much better. The slick was copious and warm on his tongue as he swallowed around her intimate place and indicated his interest in drinking more of her by his insistent sucking.

“Gendry…” she moaned, her body pushing forward to meet his mouth. She writhed against him, breath catching at his rough cheeks rubbing her skin raw. Gendry revelled in her noises. He looked up at her, watching her breasts rise and fall.

“Gods,” Gendry grunted. He was unable to muster any more words. His lips pressed against her inner thigh as he slicked his fingers along her cunt and pressed his middle finger into her. She cried out as he inched the single digit inside slowly, her whole upper body rearing up so that his hair brushed along her stomach while he kissed her sweet mound. He spent a long while fucking his finger into her, moving it to test the walls of her cunt. He was delighted to find her heated thighs clench around his ears when he curled his finger forward roughly and found a spot within her that made her whole body convulse.

When her legs released him he tilted his head up to kiss her flat, hard stomach. “Can I add another?” he asked.

“Please!” Arya said. She stroked his neck and scraped her nails across his shoulders as he did as she asked. As the two fingers pushed in together, Gendry’s mouth focused only on her swollen clit. Soon following, he added his third.

She bucked against him, miraculously still sitting upright, as he toyed with her. Her belly was tense when his forehead hit against it.

“How long was your dream?” She gasped in a rush. She was growing impatient though he couldn't understand why. She, at least, had fingers within her.

“Long enough,” Gendry grunted, “stop being impatient.”

But she was impatient. So much so that Gendry took pity on her and rolled them over so that she was pressed to his face from on top. She could exert more control over him through this arrangement—not that she didn't have complete control over him in the first place.

“Ah, Gendry!” she cried out. Her head was thrown back as she pushed down on him and gripped his hair. He felt his wrist cramping from the strange angle of his hands but braved it at the cry. He let her ride him happily, moaning into her folds and sucking harshly as he dug his nails into her arse. Her body shone with sweat as she continued her assault on his mouth.

When her hand reached back nimbly to pull at the laces on his pants he exclaimed in surprise, muffled by her cunt. It took work but she soon pulled his cock out. The noise he made at being free of his confines seemed to startle her for a second. They locked eyes and the sight of him made her bite her lip as the corners of her mouth turned up. She clutched him, gentle but firm, in her warm hand. They matched the pace of Arya’s hand moving up and down his aching cock and Gendry’s fingers delving into her warmth.

“Gendry, please,” she gasped, “f-fuck me.”

“Arya,” he said, voice gruff and testy at her persistence.

“Is this about hurting me?” Arya asked.

“I said—”

She cut him off quickly. “Mother talked to Sansa once about the pain of being stretched. If that's what's taking so long I can assure you that I'll be fine.”

Gendry groaned against her and felt himself twitch in her grip, not for the first time, with need. “Can't you just enjoy it?”

“I didn't say I wasn't!” As if to prove her point, she lurched forward and gripped his hair even harder. “I just want—I want to feel you—”

Her core tightened around his fingers at the thought of him being inside her. Gendry whimpered into her sex. “I'll hurt you.”

“Mayhaps you will, but I'm flexible and young and you're not running me through with a knife, but with your cock.”

“Fuck, Arya,” Gendry moaned, “You can't just say things like that!”

“What makes you think you'll hurt me anyway, have you hurt others?”

“There's been no one before you,” he muttered, crooking his fingers in wild succession in the off chance it would keep her quiet.

“Then why are you acting all knowledgeable, you idiot? You know as much about it as I do!”

Gendry withdrew his fingers rapidly. She whined at the loss and he smirked as he pushed her body off of him. He grabbed her again and threw her like a doll so that her head was on the pillows as it should be. “I do know more than you,” he murmured, atop her again, “tell me, Arya, do you wake up every morning and touch your cunt after you relieve yourself? How many whorehouses did you visit to deliver armor you'd crafted for a man spending an evening there? Do we truly have the same experience?”

“I don't care!” she cried, “I don't fucking care what you know! I'll take the pain if I can feel you inside me. I've heard Ros when Theon invites her to come in for the night and… I want to know what she means when she talks of the beauty of a man’s face as he peaks. I want to see you, Gendry, please.”

“Fucking Hells, Arya,” Gendry groaned, his shaky breath coming out hard. He knew it was time to admit defeat. She'd kill him otherwise and he didn't know that he could wait any longer anyway. He was good at delaying his orgasms when he was alone and could vary his speed, strength, and hand but with Arya he would need all the energy he could get.

“How do you wish to take me?” She urged softly, knowing his resolve had diminished considerably.

He pressed their mouths together, feeling his swollen cockhead brush her thigh tantalizingly. “You said you wanted to look upon my face,” he murmured into her lips as his cock smeared his arousal along her leg. “I want whatever you do, Arya.”

With that, he used a hand to aim his cock at her center. When she felt him against her, her body tensed up. Gendry halted for a second, only to have the woman beneath him throw her arms around him and kiss him so fervently he forgot what he was doing and slid home inside of her.

“Arya!” Gendry cried out, half in pleasure from being sheathed inside her warmth, and half in terror for her pain.

“Shh, I'll be alright,” she assured, “just wait a moment.”

“Don't tell me it doesn't hurt, I won't believe you.”

She nodded. “It stings, but I don't mind. You're cock is warm and that takes away some of it.”

He growled at that, his fingers holding her hips hard enough to bruise. They passed the time with more kissing and Arya finally divesting him of his shirt. He circled her nipples with his fingers and attacked her mouth without pause.

“Gods, Gendry,” Arya hissed. She broke away from him by turning her head to the side. “Fuck me now.”

He wasted no time for once. His cock pulsed inside of her already and her slick folds did nothing but draw him in. She was hot and tight and her insides felt silky on him. He was so used to his own rough hands that he almost came after the first few thrusts. He buried his face in her breasts, too caught up to even think about kissing as he breathed in the scent of her body.

“Gendry,” Arya moaned. She repeated it over and over. Sometimes the name on her tongue was a breathless gasp and other times it was a high pitched half-scream. He oft found her whispering for him to go harder and faster though he stuck to his pace. He knew that if she woke tomorrow in pain she’d blame him whether it was her idea or not.

“Arya, I need—”

“Fuck, Gendry…please!”

The pleasure at hearing his name on her lips over and over was what threw him (cock)head first into his orgasm.

“Fuck, Arya!” He cried out, voice hoarse as his hips stuttered on weakly. She tightened fiercely around him as one of her hands scrambled upon his back for purchase. She studied him for a few seconds as her breath came out in hard gasps and he remembered vaguely what she'd said about seeing his face. He couldn't concentrate on that though, as his eyes fell shut. She was thinking along the same lines as her other hand forced their mouths together while he shuddered apart above her. His lips muffled her noises but he felt the vibration of each one and they spurred his orgasm until he thought he may never be able to come again, he felt so empty.

When Gendry was finished, he threw himself onto his side of the bed. He was a sweaty mess as Arya turned on her stomach to face him. She too, glistened in the firelight, though he imagined that he looked much worse—he always would look much worse than Arya Stark.

“Was that your dream?” Arya asked, voice a whisper.

“Better than, I'd say.”

Her eyes widened in surprise and he chuckled. Her cheeks were red at his amusement and she looked almost angry but she leaned into his hand when he touched her cheek.

“How can a dream compare to the real thing?” he said.

She looked unsure. “I've never done this. I only thought—”

“You're perfect,” Gendry admitted, “better than any other woman.”

They settled back into each other, naked as the day they were born. He held her hip and stroked his thumb against her skin as he pulled her back against his chest. He could see scratch marks along her shoulder blades and he didn't know whether to turn red in embarrassment or smile at his markings. She didn't seem to be complaining about any pain.

Her voice rang out in the room. “What else did we do in your dream?”

“Arya,” he warned, knowing they'd not gotten nearly enough sleep.

“Show me?” She wiggled about against him, tight arse pushing against his cock as it shifted in interest.

“You're an awful girl,” Gendry murmured into her neck.

But all the same, he cupped her mound as they kissed, shifted two fingers into her, and allowed her to come on his fingers a second time. It was rushed, but she seemed quite pleased with herself by the end of it.

Smiling against her hair, he wiped his hand on the sheets and shut his eyes. “Goodnight Mi—”

“I swear to all the Gods, I'll cut off those stupid fingers!”


End file.
